


1952 Vincent Black Lightning (With Apologies to Richard Thompson)

by Cartoon_Idiot_59



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, F/M, Gun Violence, Inspired by Music, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 05:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20286400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cartoon_Idiot_59/pseuds/Cartoon_Idiot_59
Summary: Dipper returns to Gravity Falls a dangerous man; Wendy is intrigued. Don't worry, it's only a song. (Now, with links to the song! )





	1952 Vincent Black Lightning (With Apologies to Richard Thompson)

**Author's Note:**

> A sad story, but not true. Unless you want it to be. Multiverse you know.

Says Red Wendy, to Dip, "Well that's a fine motorbike.  
A girl could feel special on any such like."

Wendy Corduroy was twenty-four years old, a college dropout, and bored. Bored, bored bored. She'd tried college, boring, she'd tried work, boring, she'd tried drugs and being a party girl and it was all boring! The problem was, she thought, is that I'm jaded. I've been spoiled. When you've stopped the end of the world, it's hard to get excited about 'English vs. American Lit : A Comparison'. Trigonometry made her itchy, all those damn Triangles. When you've wrestled yourself, when you've fought unspeakable horrors from beyond Space and Time, when you've been turned into a tapestry, weed, booze, cocaine and acid have no punch. Sex? It's fun, sure and Robbie, Nate, Lee, Thompson and Tambry all tried their best, but there was something missing. And college? Endless strings of guys named Jason and girls named Tiffany, wasted after two beers just didn't make the cut. She'd started working for her dad, 'jacking was okay, she'd been doing it since she was eight, she was good at it but it was boring. Of course, if you were careless, you might die. It had that going for it. That's what she missed, that's what made it worthwhile, that feeling that you might die.

It'd all gone wrong when the Pines' left. Stan and his nerdy brother went away in search of weirdness, but they seemed to take it with them. The gnomes and fairies and manotaurs and whatever all dissolved back into the woods and now you almost never saw anything strange or weird or not dull. Soos took over the Mystery Shack, he was a good boss, better than Stan, but the magic was gone. No, that's not fair, there was still magic there, the armies of families with kids marching through attested to that, the Shack had never done better business. The danger was gone! There was no chance of being cursed into a comic book or having your face stolen. There was no chance that you might die.

She missed the twins. She missed Dipper and Mabel. She missed riffing to bad movies and random dance parties for no reason, she missed fluffy sweater hugs and awkward sweaty hugs and chocolate eyes looking at her with pure, unadulterated love.

And she'd friendzoned him! Robbie, Nate, Lee, Thompson and Tambry all tried their best, endless strings of guys named Jason and girls named Tiffany, wasted after two beers tried their best, but nothing, NOTHING beat a pair (or two pairs) of chocolate eyes looking at her with pure, unadulterated love. Maybe she'd buy a motorcycle and ride it around the west, until she took it over the high side and died in a ditch. Hell, she was already wearing the jacket.

Speak of the devil! She heard a motorcycle, rumbling like a Harley Davidson but different somehow, throaty, more dangerous! She looked and saw the bike, steel and black and chrome and looking like freedom and death all rolled into one! It was the most dangerous and most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She noticed the rider then, tall, taller than her (and she was six foot. Freak lumberjack genes), a swimmer's bod, a gymnast's bod, Lord, he was HOT! Messy brown hair, brown eyes, chocolate eyes looking at her with pure, unadulterated love. It COULDN'T BE! 

She walked up to him and said, "Hey, stranger. Well, that's a fine motorbike. A girl could feel special on any such like."

He smiled. It melted her heart. He made a gesture, zipping his lip and throwing away the key. It WAS him! 

Says Dip, to Red Wendy, "My hat's off to you.  
It's a Vincent Black Lightning, 1952."

Dipper Pines rolled into Gravity Falls. He was twenty-one, a failure, a thief and a mugger. He had PTSD, he couldn't sleep, he flinched at loud laughter and the color yellow, he flunked out of high school. He'd starting mugging tourists in Golden Gate Park, Washington Square, the Presidio. He'd hit liquor stores and convenience stores in Oakland. His sister had shaved half her head, gotten full-sleeve tattoos, pierced EVERYTHING and was happily whoring her way through the Tenderloin. He bought a Vincent Black Lightning, 1952 and rode with the Angels out of Oakland. He remembered when he was twelve and the world ended. He thought he'd go up and see if the one thing he'd ever done right was still there. He wouldn't be his Great-Uncle's apprentice, his protège, not now. But he'd done one thing right. He'd let Wendy be. He hoped she was alright. 

He headed for Yumberjack's. He lived on fast food. And there, just walking along the street, she was! She turned at the sound of the Vincent, most people did, and checked it out. Then she checked HIM out. She seemed to like what she saw. Was that a flicker of recognition he saw? She walked up to him and said, "Hey, stranger. Well, that's a fine motorbike. A girl could feel special on any such like."

She wants to play! He smiled and he made a gesture, zipping his lip and throwing away the key. He said "My hat's off to you. It's a Vincent Black Lightning, 1952."

"And I've seen you on the corners and cafes, it seems.  
Red hair and black leather, my favorite color scheme."  
And he pulled her on behind,  
And down to Portland, They'd Ride.

They rode down to Portland. They had a lunch, had a kiss, had a quickie in a sleazy hotel room. They stopped pretending to be strangers then. Dipper stopped at a jewelry store.

Says Dip, to Red Wendy, "Here's a ring for your right hand.  
But I'll tell you in earnest I'm a dangerous man;  
For I've fought with the law since I was seventeen.

I've robbed many a man to get my Vincent machine.  
And now I'm twenty-one years, I might make twenty-two.  
And I don't mind dyin' but for the love of you.  
But if fate should break my stride, then I'll give you my Vincent, To Ride."

They rode back to Gravity Falls the next night. They hit a liquor store in Prineville and a convenience store in Sumpter. They shacked up in Wendy's tiny apartment. They had never been as happy in their lives. But nothing lasts forever.

"Come down Red Wendy " called Sheriff Daryl Blubs, you see.  
"For they've taken young Dipper Pines for Armed Robbery.  
Shotgun blast hit his chest, left nothing inside.  
Oh, come down, Red Wendy, to his dying bedside."

For two weeks it was bliss. Then one day Wendy got a phone call. It was Sheriff Daryl Blubs. "Wendy? It's Dipper Pines. He tried robbing the new Dusk 'til Dawn. Clerk shot him. It doesn't look good. He's calling for you, girl! Better see him while you can!"

When she came to the hospital, there wasn't much left.  
He was runnin' out of road. He was runnin' out of breath.  
But he smiled, to see her cry.  
And said, "I'll give you my Vincent.  
To Ride."

Said Dip, "In my opinion, there's nothing in this world  
Beats a '52 Vincent and a Redheaded girl.  
Now Nortons and Indians and Harleys won't do.  
Oh, they don't have a Soul like a Vincent '52."

Well he reached for her hand and he slipped her the keys.  
He said, "I've got no further use...for these.  
I see Angels on Ariels in leather and chrome,  
Swoopin' down from Heaven to carry me home."

And he gave her one last kiss and died.  
And he gave her his Vincent.  
To Ride.

Wendy took the keys. Blubs took her to the bike. She got on, started it up, rode to the tops of the cliffs...

And rode over the edge. 

She looked at the sky. She saw Angels on Ariels in leather and chrome, Swoopin' down from Heaven to carry her home. One of them was Dipper Pines on a Vincent Black Lightning, 1952.

______________________________________________________________________________________

The spotlight on the stage lit Wendy holding Dipper Pines. There was weeping in the crowd. "Whoa!" A voice said. The stage at Woodstick Festival 2022 was suddenly awash with light, showing the band. Wendy and Dipper stood up, taking a bow.

"Thank you! Thank you very much! We're Robbie V and the Tombstones! That was our version of Vincent Black Lightning, 1952 by Richard Thompson! We'd like to thank Toot-Toot McBumbersnazzle, The Handlebar Brothers, Fiddleford McGucket, and Candy Chiu for their help with harmonies and for giving us a real bluegrass, high lonesome sound!" Announced Robbie Valentino. "So, that's it for Woodstick '22! Thanks again! You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here! Thanks! Thank you!"

The venue rocked with applause. Everyone took a bow. They got a standing O. The stage lights went down and the crowd started filing out. 

Mabel Pines rushed onto the stage, tears running down her face, cannonballing into her brother and Wendy, hugging them tight. She had shaved half her head, gotten full-sleeve tattoos, pierced both ears (ten times) her nose and one nipple. She hadn't pierced EVERYTHING! "You guys were great! But it was SOOOO SAAAAAAAD!! I'm still crying!"

"OOO-WHEE! That were fun! Ah don' git to hootenanny with'n a man-DOE-lin very often!" Hooted McGucket, handing the instrument back to the Handlebar Brother who owned it.

"You're good at it. That's a hard song." The man said, putting the Gibson mandolin away.

"Shucks! Twaren't nuthin'! Ah kin play anything what's gots strings! Bin listenin' to Del 'n' the boys 'n' Mr. Thompson o' course, play that un fer years!" 

"I think that went well." Robbie ventured.

"Crowd loved it. Did you hear them crying? That one got under their skin." Said another Handlebar Brother, putting his guitar in it's case.

Toot-Toot McBumbersnazzle just nodded and strode away with his banjo. A bit of a Prima Donna, that one.

"I never get to fiddle! It's always classical! Mr. McGucket is right, that was the fun!" Candy enthused, carefully putting her violin away. 

Robbie turned to Dipper and Wendy. "So what'd you guys think? I told you we had something special planned for you! Thanks for acting it out, by the way! That goes for you too, Sheriff!" 

Blubs was busy, consoling a weeping deputy Durland. "There, there, darlin'! Let it out."

"I couldn't help but notice that you kind of killed me off." Observed Dr. Mason 'Dipper' Pines (PhD, director of cryptozoology at the Oregon Institute for the Study of Anomolous Phenomena), dryly.

"Well, duh! That's how the song goes, genius! Besides, while I love you guys, I don't actually LIKE you, dork!" Robbie grinned, evilly. 

"The feeling's mutual. How do you put up with him, Tambry?" Asked Dipper.

"Oh, you know. He grows on you. Kinda like athlete's foot." Tambry said, packing away her keyboards.

"Yeah, that's Robbie. A fungi to be with." Snorted Wendy. "Dipper? When they were playing the song, when we were acting it out, did you get the feeling that it was really happening? Like, for the reals? I took the bike and Thelma and Louise'd myself right off the cliffs!" 

"I know. I came and got you, after. I was already dead. It could've happened that way, very easily, TOO easily. I think it did, somewhere else and that's what we were getting. Seeing. Feeling. Some other Dipper and Wendy in some other dimension." He glanced at his sister. "Some other Mabel, too."

"You mean I'm not a whore in the Tenderloin?!" Mabel said, mischief lighting her eyes.

"Not as far as I know. You're Mabel Pines, highly demanded fashion designer and artist. What you do in the Tenderloin is YOUR business!" Dipper replied.

"Well, aren't we the lucky ones?!" Wendy exclaimed. 

"Always, lumberjack girl!" Agreed Dipper, glancing at the ring he'd gotten her. For her LEFT hand. He took her hand and led her to the Vincent. It was his Grunkle's, Stan had always wanted one. Since the adventuring had turned out handsomely, he could afford one. Just like Ford could afford to open the Oregon Institute for the Study of Anomolous Phenomena. 

He got on the bike and started it. (This is a minor miracle. Vincents are ornery, finicky, demanding machines, that NEVER start on the first kick) And he pulled her on behind, And down to Portland, They'd Ride. For a kiss. And maybe a quickie in a sleazy hotel room. 

Says Red Molly, to James, "Well that's a fine motorbike.  
A girl could feel special on any such like."  
Says James, to Red Molly, "My hat's off to you.  
It's a Vincent Black Lightning, 1952.

And I've seen you on the corners and cafes, it seems.  
Red hair and black leather, my favorite color scheme."  
And he pulled her on behind,  
And down to Boxhill,

They'd Ride.  
Says James, to Red Molly, "Here's a ring for your right hand.  
But I'll tell you in earnest I'm a dangerous man;  
For I've fought with the law since I was seventeen.

I've robbed many a man to get my Vincent machine.  
And now I'm twenty-one years, I might make twenty-two.  
And I don't mind dyin' but for the love of you.  
But if fate should break my stride, then I'll give you my Vincent, To Ride."

"Come down Red Molly, " called Sargent McQuade.  
"For they've taken young James Aidee for Armed Robbery.  
Shotgun blast hit his chest, left nothing inside.  
Oh, come down, Red Molly, to his dying bedside."

When she came to the hospital, there wasn't much left.  
He was runnin' out of road. He was runnin' out of breath.  
But he smiled, to see her cry.  
And said, "I'll give you my Vincent.  
To Ride."

Said James, "In my opinion, there's nothing in this world  
Beats a '52 Vincent and a Redheaded girl.  
Now Nortons and Indians and Greavses won't do.  
Oh, they don't have a Soul like a Vincent '52."

Well he reached for her hand and he slipped her the keys.  
He said, "I've got no further use...for these.  
I see Angels on Ariels in leather and chrome,  
Swoopin' down from Heaven to carry me home."

And he gave her one last kiss and died.  
And he gave her his Vincent.  
To Ride.

"1952 Vincent Black Lightning"  
Song by Richard Thompson  
from the album Rumor and Sigh  
Released May 1991  
Recorded 1991  
Studio  
Sunset Sound, Los Angeles and Konk Studios, London  
Songwriter(s)  
Richard Thompson  
Producer(s)  
Mitchell Froom

Says Red Wendy, to Dip, "Well that's a fine motorbike.  
A girl could feel special on any such like."  
Says Dip, to Red Wendy, "My hat's off to you.  
It's a Vincent Black Lightning, 1952.

And I've seen you on the corners and cafes, it seems.  
Red hair and black leather, my favorite color scheme."  
And he pulled her on behind,  
And down to Portland,

They'd Ride.  
Says Dip, to Red Wendy, "Here's a ring for your right hand.  
But I'll tell you in earnest I'm a dangerous man;  
For I've fought with the law since I was seventeen.

I've robbed many a man to get my Vincent machine.  
And now I'm twenty-one years, I might make twenty-two.  
And I don't mind dyin' but for the love of you.  
But if fate should break my stride, then I'll give you my Vincent, To Ride."

"Come down Red Wendy " called Sheriff Daryl Blubs, you see.  
"For they've taken young Dipper Pines for Armed Robbery.  
Shotgun blast hit his chest, left nothing inside.  
Oh, come down, Red Wendy, to his dying bedside."

When she came to the hospital, there wasn't much left.  
He was runnin' out of road. He was runnin' out of breath.  
But he smiled, to see her cry.  
And said, "I'll give you my Vincent.  
To Ride."

Said Dip, "In my opinion, there's nothing in this world  
Beats a '52 Vincent and a Redheaded girl.  
Now Nortons and Indians and Harleys won't do.  
Oh, they don't have a Soul like a Vincent '52."

Well he reached for her hand and he slipped her the keys.  
He said, "I've got no further use...for these.  
I see Angels on Ariels in leather and chrome,  
Swoopin' down from Heaven to carry me home."

And he gave her one last kiss and died.  
And he gave her his Vincent.  
To Ride.

**Author's Note:**

> So I was browsing YouTube, watching every version of Vincent Black Lightning, 1952 I could find (as one does) and THIS came to me. It made me cry. Thanks of course to Richard Thompson. 
> 
> If you don't know the song, for shame! Check it out. Any version by Richard Thompson.https://youtu.be/j0kJdrfzjAg of course, for the bluegrass feel Del McCoury https://youtu.be/2Fpwlae4ZYc or Reckless Kelly. https://youtu.be/H3Xh1XQEj1U Or Red Molly. https://youtu.be/tevybDGaQfs or, for this fic particularly, Sean Rowe. https://youtu.be/CrGOs1a1lOk alright, I think that was better.


End file.
